Every soldier had their way of passing time between missions — cards, cigars, letters home. Ghost had magazines.

Not the tactical kind either. His were more... private. A guilty pleasure he’d never admit to anyone. And among the glossy pages, there was one face that always caught his eye — yours.

He’d memorized those spreads on long, sleepless nights. The curve of your smile, the way you seemed untouchable, far removed from the mud and noise of his world. You were the kind of beauty that didn’t belong anywhere near a battlefield.

So when he walked into the hangar that morning to meet the new recruits and saw you standing in formation — uniform crisp, chin raised — Ghost froze. For once, his composure slipped.

No way.

He took a slow breath, straightened his shoulders, and started down the line, mask hiding everything but his eyes. His boots thudded steadily against the concrete as he checked each recruit, one by one — until he stopped in front of you.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t even seem to recognize him. Of course you wouldn’t. To you, he was just another officer. But to him — you were the face he’d seen a hundred times in silence.

His voice came low and even, clipped with authority.

“Name.”

A pause, his gaze lingering just a moment too long.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

He moved on before you could answer, though his heartbeat hadn’t settled. Behind the mask, a faint smirk tugged at his mouth.

Bloody hell, he thought. Of all the recruits in the world… it had to be her.